


All The Way Home I'll Be Warm

by Dissipating_Mango



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: A little bit of everything, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Christmas, Dib is depressed, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Some Fluff, bc I am sappy and want a happy ending dammit, some angsty moments, some smut, the magic of christmas~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21865420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dissipating_Mango/pseuds/Dissipating_Mango
Summary: "I dunno. It's Christmas Eve, I'm all alone, and I've got nothing better to do then drink eggnog and try to pass out."  He settled for taking another sip and patting the cushion beside him.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 189





	All The Way Home I'll Be Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello hello! I hope everyone is having, will have, or already has had, a happy holiday! I also hope a zadr Christmas fic was on your wishlist, and if it wasn't, too bad I wrote it anyway >:3
> 
> Merry jingles!

Zim hated winter. It was cold. Terrible. Unlike its sister season autumn, with its dazzling colors, or summer in its dry refuge, nothing good could be said for winter. It was dark and _wet_ and disgusting. Snow was awful too, even in its gentleness, though currently, it was anything but. Clenching his jaw, he powered through the storm, slipping on the grey sludge of the sidewalk, regretting not having parked closer. 

Dib didn't live at his old home anymore (which really would've made visits like these so much more convenient). No, he _chose_ to live in an apartment two miles outside of town. That was the way he seemed to live most of his life now; cheap and distant. Especially during the dreaded, horrible, _vile_ winter months when his spirit seemed to dim even further then it's usual dull glow. It disgusted Zim.

Probably for the wrong reasons. 

But, he chose not to dwell on it. No use dwelling on what couldn't be. 

  
Gloved knuckles were meeting the door soon enough, and Dib opened. His cheeks were rosy, the slightest hint of a smile masqueraded behind his gloomy stubble and default scowl. 

"What do you want Zim?" 

Zim bristled at the comment automatically, but not out of surprise. He had expected that. 

"Your presence as of late has been utterly abysmal. Should I begin the next phase of my plan to conquer your planet uninterrupted, or are you going to try to stop me?"

A practiced speech. In all honesty, they were hardly enemies at this point; though not for lack of trying on Zim's end. It just, didn't seem to excite Dib anymore, not the way it used to. This awkward balance between opposition and alliance was what their once magnificent battles had devolved into. Zim pushed down nostalgic memories and coughed loudly. 

Dib blinked slow, like words weren't putting themselves together as swift as they usually could. Not a good sign.

"What...?" 

Zim sighed. "Just let me in." 

A scoff blended into a shrug and Dib walked away from the door. 

His home smelled like burnt noodles and decay. Shoes had been tossed by, or more accurately, _at_ the wall, dirt pooled around them. A blinking string of lights, haphazardly draped over the door frame, was the only indication other than Dib drinking from a festive looking cup, that Christmas was upon them. The mug hit his rickety coffee table with a clank. 

"You are intoxicated," Zim stated. It was obvious. He wasn't even trying to hide it.

"Yeah." 

"Why?" 

Dib worried the edge of his lip and a strangled laugh erupted from his chest. The kind of hollow chuckle you give when a soldier asks if you're okay while pink is spilling from your gut.

"I dunno. It's Christmas Eve, I'm all alone, and I've got nothing better to do then drink eggnog and try to pass out." He settled for taking another sip and patting the cushion beside him. 

"C'mon Zim, have a seat, we can watch a movie while I discuss methods of suicide that haven't been invented yet," he joked with a pained smile that turned to a grimace when Zim didn't laugh. "...I think they're playing Rudolph on the news station or something. Just sit down." 

  
Taking his offer was easier done than said. Zim sat down without a word. 

The channel flipped to a cartoon, horse, creature. A moose perhaps? Although, maybe not. It had antler-y things on top of it's head anyway. As if reading his mind, Dib answered his unspoken question. 

"He's a reindeer. Rudolph the red nose reindeer, it's a movie. Have you seen it?" 

Zim shook his head. Rarely did he ever indulge in human media.

Dib swallowed. "Yeah okay. I get it. I'm not a big Christmas fan either..." The drink in his hand swirled. "I used to watch this as a kid though, I found it, I don't know. Relatable, I guess." 

Another clink of ceramic meeting wood. 

"Why are you here anyway?" 

Zim shrugged. "You haven't been present for several days, I grew..." Worried was the right word definition wise, but the wrong one to admit. 

"...bored." 

Dib scoffed. "Sure."

"Why do you not participate in the jingly festivities with your fellow humans?" Zim questioned. "Or return to your childhood house during the holiday weekend?" 

Dib went silent. Carols trickled in from his scratchy speakers as the blinking lights turned his face green to red to green again. 

  
"I didn't want to," he muttered. "Didn't- didn't feel like it..." 

His hands ran through his hair, a sure sign he had more on his mind. Zim scooted towards him, their knees just barely touching; an instinctual desire to get closer surpassing his need to conceal vulnerability. 

Dib licked his lips and settled his hands on the table, fingers twitchy and tapping. He looked straight at Zim, amber eyes turned soft in the dark. 

"Do you believe in Christmas magic?" 

No. Not in the slightest. Christmas magic was even more laughable then perhaps other superstitious human beliefs; there was nothing to be said for it other than it being a collection of lies founded upon human youth and ignorance. 

  
Dib smiled weakly. "You don't, do you?" 

"No, I suppose not." 

"I guess, I still do." He laughed again. "I'm pathetic aren't I?" 

Pink eyes darted to pale shaky hands that only trembled more with liquid between them. 

"Twenty two and I'm still holding out for some kind of miracle to pick me up again..."

The edge of the cup met his lips and jealousy surged through Zim. He wanted to be the one to make those lips sting and quiver. He wanted to be the one to fill him with warmth. _Real warmth_. Not the false heat of poison down his throat. Closing his eyes, his anger simmered into steam, released in a single exhale. 

"Should've done it tonight, but hey, it's Christmas Eve right?" Dib mused. Another sip. Creamy alcohol dripped down his chin in a manner almost suggestive had it not been so somber. "Can't kill yourself on a holiday..." 

Dib blinked and followed Zim's burning gaze to the mug in his hand. 

"Do you, want a sip or something?"

Alcohol was vile, and Zim's PAK didn't allow him to get drunk. But, Dib's lips touched that cup...

"Give Zim your disgusting egg based nog." 

He snatched the cup away from Dib's hands. It smelled sweet and boozey and tasted about the same. Zim suckled lightly on the rim, desperate for any trace of Dib to complete the indirect kiss. 

"Heh. I thought you didn't like human drinks." 

Zim stuck out his tongue and shoved the beverage away. "I don't," he mumbled in disgust. 

Dib took the drink and downed the rest of it, dropping the mug onto the dingy beige carpet when he finished, and slumped into the couch. TV lights danced on his glasses. 

"Why are you still here?" 

"I already informed you why I arrived--"

"No, why are you _still_ here?" Dib clarified. "As in, why haven't you left yet?" He rolled to face Zim, staring directly at his undisguised eyes. 

"Why are you so, pink?" 

"Eh?" 

"Your dress matches your eyes and I never see you wear anything else," Dib mumbled as he closed his own eyes. "It's good on you. Don't change it." 

Zim swallowed. If Dib liked him in pink, he would buy millions of pink garments, paint the town pink and parade down the street in such a glorious pink display, he wouldn't stop until pink could be seen from Irken conquered space. 

  
"God, I'm fucking drunk..." Dib laughed. "Hey, hey wanna hear something funny space boy?" 

Amber eyes half open, fingers clumsily made their way to Zim's. 

"You wanna know how really pathetic I am?" 

He shifted closer, fingers knitting themselves together in a mutual effort. Zim held his breath.

"I'm a virgin," He giggled and pressed his head into the cushion. "I've never even, never even kissed anybody..." 

"Neither have I," Zim responded, spooch pounding. He'd never wanted to before. Never had the opportunity. That could change right now though. Oh Tallest, that could change right now...

"It doesn't count for you 'cause you're an alien. Other humans are supposed to gross _you_ out." 

Supposed to, yes. And most of them did. With one glaring exception. He studied Dib's words carefully.

"Do you find, other humans gross?" 

Dib shifted, eyes narrowed. "Why do you care?"

"Zim is not..." he paused, looking at their loosely connected fingers. "Human." 

His eyes went wide and Dib sat up. Antennae leaned forward, ghosting his face, trying to pick up a scent he couldn't make. An involuntary reaction Zim knew existed, but never experienced with other Irkens. 

"Yeah, I know..." 

  
He swallowed, thumb pressing into Zim's palm. The jolly music of the reindeer movie faded into heavy blood pulsing in Zim's head at the touch. It suddenly felt warm under his skin, as if his heat regulation had been tampered with. A hand hesitantly made a home on his jaw. 

Dib opened his mouth and closed it, evidently at a loss for words. He leaned in and Zim nearly melted, their lips just a breath apart. They were so close, but they could be even closer. They had to be closer. They _needed_ to be closer. Zim moved to finish the gesture. 

Dib slunk away with a grimace before he could try. 

  
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry I just... I didn't mean to make it weird. God, I fucked it up, I'm such a loser I can't..." He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, glasses falling to the floor. "I'm just lonely, I didn't mean to make this something it's not..." 

Zim's spooch sank. Was he not responsive enough? Not agreeable? 

"I'm gonna make another drink..." Lanky legs shook their way to standing right before Dib slipped on the mug he earlier dropped. In a quick moment before he fell, Zim shot up and steadied his body, arms around his waist. 

The room was silent, devoid of noise save for the soft jingling bell songs quietly playing on the TV. When that song faded out and new one faded in, they were just as still. Dib's face was warped in the flashy lighting. 

"You can uh..." he swallowed. "You can let go now." 

He could. Zim didn't want to. It was a strain to keep his head tilted up and his arms locked, but it was worth the effort. His hands drifted to Dib's hips, reminiscent of the way their classmates used to dance at skool functions. Human dancing, especially of the adolescent variety, was pitiful; nothing compared to the choreographed sparring Irken entertainment drones were capable of. But, perhaps something could be said of those gentle, swaying hugs of formality if it felt anything like he was feeling right now. 

Zim smiled, a hint of arrogance behind pink teeth, manufactured only to excite Dib into playing along. 

"Make me." 

His hands placed themselves overtop Zim's, and Zim moved them to a loose hold, hanging easy between their bodies. There was far too much space between their bodies. Zim could fix that.

Leading Dib's hands was another thing easier done than said. Too many words would have scared him off. And yet, his hands reached for Zim's hips like he had waited years to try. A delicate balancing act, Zim moved forward with parted lips and beckoned. 

Dib bent down and finally sank into the softness. His lips were chapped, and his stubble was scratchy but Zim could ignore that because no matter how sloppy and ill-prepared and rum flavored this kiss was, it was a kiss nonetheless. Dib yanked him closer and Zim didn't even have it in him to complain about the inebriated roughness. He wanted to be as tangled as Christmas lights and arched his back into the curve of Dib's body until they practically were. 

Panting, Dib broke the kiss first, spit dripping down his lip. He pinched Zim's tunic between his fingers and mumbled.

"You look so good in pink..." 

"I know," Zim breathed. "You said that earlier." 

"I did?" His fingers dipped underneath the hem, eyes dark and steady as he thumbed the soft flesh. 

"I changed my mind. I think I'd like you better without it..." He pushed the tunic up and Zim shivered. Arms raised, his shirt glided past his body and slumped onto the floor, along with his gloves. Dib took one look at his uncovered hands and immediately pressed a palm to his lips. 

"You're so cute..." He whispered underneath smiles and kisses. Dib pulled a clawed finger between his lips and Zim's knees buckled. Light sucks were enough to draw short needy breathes. He leaned against Dib for support, which in all honesty, was his first mistake, and entirely the reason they crashed to the ground in a magnificent display of unsteadiness. 

At first, it almost looked like Dib was going to cry, and Zim froze. But his expression broke into a smile and he pressed their foreheads together, hugging Zim tighter into his chest, giggling.

"Why... are you laughing?" 

"I don't know! It's just, it's funny!" He nuzzled into Zim's shoulder. "I pictured us falling down and it was just-" He broke into a fit of giggles again. Laughter shook his chest and Zim pressed into the soft vibrations. They stayed like that for a minute or two, Dib having a hysterical breakdown and Zim laying on top of him, before Dib finally dragged them both --still a little silly-- to his bedroom. 

  
It was dark and small and barely fit his bed. But none of that mattered when Dib's lips were sucking his neck and he was kicking his boots off on the naked matress, duvet half-heartedly thrown on one side. 

"M'sorry about the bed..." Dib mumbled between wet pecks. The storm shook the windows just as Dib's kisses shook Zim's legs. Worn jeans were kicked to the floor and Dib's mouth was back on his, claws scraping under his shirt. They pressed against each other, bellies flush, in a simple rhythm. 

Not particularly fast; if anything, it was languid. 

Dib eagerly tucked his thumbs under the black waistband. A couple tugs later and the leggings were gone. A cold rush of dread flooded Zim's body. 

  
"Are you- you're shaking..." Dib whispered.

Oh. He supposed he was.

"I'm... exposed." Zim mumbled in a small voice. It was an odd thing, the way he could feel the bed on his skin directly. How vulnerable his body was. How rash all their actions suddenly seemed. He didn't even know what kind of commitment this was, they didn't even have a proper courtship, he was intoxicated, they were rushing far too fast and--

"Hey, it's okay," Dib cooed, petting at his cheek. "It's okay, c'mere, look..." 

Zim opened his eyes. Dib had removed the rest of his clothes. 

"We're even now, see?" 

Distracted, Zim trailed his fingers along Dib's body.

Dib's skin was soft along his chest, growing rougher around his extremities. Dark nipples and a naval on his abdomen were glaring reminders of his mammalian heritage. Zim ran a thumb along one and smiled at how it hardened under his touch. Dib made a funny noise and Zim's other hand explored further. 

His body was covered in stunning white and pink streaks. Scars, he remembered after a moment of thinking. Irkens didn't scar. 

"Where did these come from?" Zim whispered, tracing a particularly large pink one on his chest. 

"Mostly you. A couple from me..." Dib looked down. "That one was you. Your metal uh, metal legs or whatever."

Zim remembered vividly. It had been a very, _very_ close call that day. In that moment, Dib's unconscious body cradled in his arms, mortality really meant something. And ever since, Dib's snide remarks about ending his life held more weight as Zim realized just how _easy_ that was for him to do. 

He gulped, guilt threatening to boil over. 

"It's fine, really..." Dib pushed his hands away and gently pinned his wrists into the mattress. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'm fine." 

Deep breathes like steady drums. Zim soaked up the soft whispers and trailing kisses, finally allowing himself to fully relax. In a sense, it was surrender. Not for lack of fighting. Perhaps it was more akin to a diplomatic end to a long held war; Dib's tongue on his slit a furious white flag and Zim's gasps a peace treaty. His toes curled and dug into the mattress as his tentacle descended and Dib took it into his mouth without complaint. His glorious Dib. 

Zim could pretend his hair was soft beneath his claws, or at the very least, ignore it's greasy state. They had tomorrow to make him wash it. Almighty, they had forever. 

He cried and bucked uncontrollably. When Zim tried to apologize in a garbled voice, Dib set his hands on his hips and held him in place, sinking down further and sucking with reverence. It hit him. This was a _gift_. 

"Oh Dib..." 

He had wrapped this act in red ribbon and presented it addressed to Zim. The room was icy. Dib's mouth was scorching. 

"Oh... Oh..." Zim panted, voice grower louder with every exclamation. "Dib... Dib... My Dib please!" He cried, wrapping his legs around Dib's head and toes scrunched violently. Sweet brown eyes. 

  
Hands released and Zim thrust all his weight down Dib's throat in a single, powerful shudder, vision going fuzzy. They melted together in a swirling soup of pleasure, warm and satiating. Dib pulled away with an obscenely wet noise and a devilish smirk.

Dib's lips were covered in a light pink gloss. And then those same wet lips were pressed against his own. It was weird, a little gross; uncomfortably intimate. Zim craved more the second they embraced. He never knew himself to taste so sweet and apparently, he was not alone in that revelation. 

  
"Mmm, you're like a candy..." Dib muttered between kissing. "Sweetest fucking thing I've ever tasted..." He moaned around Zim's tongue. "Please tell me I get to taste you again." 

"Tomorrow..." He didn't really have much of a choice given he was re-sheathed anyway. "You can taste me again tomorrow." 

Dib chuckled and flopped down.

"Yeah? You'll stick around?" 

"I can't leave yet, you didn't get to finish." 

Zim walked his fingers down to a surprisingly soft length. Dib blushed.

"Yeah, I never started... I'm a little- little too drunk," he mumbled into his pillow. "Sorry." 

Zim crawled into his arms, head tucked under his chin. "Well, I suppose Zim can also wait until tomorrow..."

"You mean that space boy?" 

Zim scoffed. "Of course I do, you're my mate." Long arms wrapped tighter around him, pulling him right against Dib's chest. 

"Okay." 

  
The wind outside was beginning to slow down, as was Dib's pulse. 

"I'm gonna be so hungover tomorrow..." 

Antennae perked as best they could, being squished.

"Hungover is, a bad thing?" 

"Yeah... sucks," Dib yawned. He babbled something unintelligible and drifted to sleep.

Zim waited until his body was completely still before slinking away to research the so called 'hungover'. 

Dib woke up with the strangest taste in his mouth. Like he downed a whole bottle of Kahlua and chased it with seawater. The details of last night fit together unevenly. He remembered drinking and he remembered it was Christmas but he also remembered, Zim? Licking his teeth (what in God's name was that _taste?_ ) more memories flooded back. Kissing? Touching? No, no that wasn't possible. 

Just another sad wet dream. No use dwelling on dreams, he didn't need more reminders of what he was lacking. 

He shoved off the covers, only to gawk at the pajamas he almost never wore, currently decorating his body. Normally, he just went to bed in his underwear. Maybe it was too cold last night and in his drunken stupor, putting on clothes made more sense then turning on the heater. He rubbed his face and took a long sip from a glass of water, conveniently placed next to his bed on the floor. When did drunk him start being so nice to his future sober self? And was that... Did he smell food?

What the hell was going on? 

Bolting out of his bedroom, and nearly tripping over some clothes carelessly thrown on the ground, Dib stumbled to the kitchen. Zim was standing, on a short stool, in front of the stove. Was he making, pancakes? 

"Zim?" 

The alien in question turned around immediately. 

"Ah! You have awoken! Behold the morning meal your ever generous mate has prepared for you!" Zim slid a glass of orange juice across the counter. 

"Drink that." 

"Wha-"

"Drink it now!" He was yelling, but not as loud as he normally did. Dib sipped the juice tentatively. A million questions bouncing like popcorn under his skull. He settled for the obvious. 

"Why are you here? And making me breakfast?" His old wooden chair creaked when he sat down in it. "And did you, call me your mate?" 

Zim blinked. "I did." His smile remained but his antennae drooped. "Is that not, what we are?" 

  
Dib rubbed his temples, memories blending with imagination. 

"Wait, hold on a second, did we...?" he stared at Zim. "Was that _real?_ "

"Real?" 

"I thought, it was just a dream but..." 

But it wasn't. He figured it out now, it was all beginning to make sense. Zim knocking on his door, the eggnog, the kissing, the touching... Zim stuck to his word after all. 

Dib bounced up from his chair. 

"Wait. Wait-wait-wait this is... You're serious?" 

Pink eyes darted back and forth. "Y-yes?" 

Dib gripped his shoulders, expression wild.

"You mean, we really did sleep together?" 

"Well, _you_ slept, I had other things to do," Zim explained, gesturing dramatically with the spatula. "But, if you are referring to the _mating_ then yes. That occured." 

He tapped his small gloved hands on the counter, flicking an antenna. 

"I should've given you this information beforehand but..." 

He faced Dib nervously. 

"Irken mating... is a permanent arrangement. And we didn't quite make it all the way but-" 

"Hang on," Dib interrupted. "What do you mean we didn't go all the way?" 

Zim blushed. "Nevermind that. I am aware human romance is pitifully shallow and frequently non-committal. I have witnessed humans exchange several proto-mates before uniting for life. But, I have not witnessed you engage in such procedures." He swallowed and puffed his chest out in a sudden display of uneasy confidence.

"If Zim is merely an experiment, tell me now! I am willing to ignore a single half-mating between us, but I will not be falling victim to twisty mind games should you wish to keep your milky bones intact!"

  
The sound of batter crackling rang like sleigh bells throughout the kitchen. Dib wet his lips and tasted sweet citrus. His chest was cozied in flannel. It was clear now, utterly obvious, these gestures were the card before the present, and Zim, in all his glory, was the gift. 

A little alien wrapped in pretty pink paper; shiny and garish and over the top, and meant to be in his hands.

Who else would it have ever been?

"Oh Zim..."

Dib cupped his cheeks and nestled into a kiss. A light, short-lived moment. Like a snowflake melting silently on a warm tongue. 

"Of course you're my mate."

Zim blinked and blinked and blinked before his antennae popped up and a wobbly smile spread across his face. Looking away, he stabbed the batter aggressively with the spatula and gesticulated with his empty hand. 

"Yes! Yes, Zim is excellent, of course. I never had any doubts of your agreement, that was merely a test to see if _you_ were up to _my_ standards." 

Dib grinned and sat back at the table, finishing his juice. 

"Did I pass?" 

Zim muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a compliment and hopped off the stool, plate in hand. Hot pancakes were thrust under Dib's face. 

"Just barely." 

The first bite was heaven on his malnourished body. Sweet and fluffy, where did he learn to cook so well?

"Wow, Zim this is actually, really good. Have you served food before?" 

His expression soured at the question. "I did not _serve_ you this meal, I _made_ it." 

"Well, either way, I didn't know you could cook." 

He rolled his eyes. "Cooking is merely an exchange of precise chemical interactions, I have done far more impressive work in that field then those tasty-sweet cakes."

Dib smiled to himself and cut another bite with his fork. The dusty bright light of a snowy day was coming in through the windows as a soft glow. 

He stared at Zim, who was in turn watching him eagerly. 

"Do you, want a bite?" 

Zim grinned. "Actually, I want something else..." 

He pushed the last of Dib's breakfast across the table and crawled into his lap, three fingered hand rapidly waking the last part of his body from it's slumber. 

"Uh, whoa..." 

"It's tomorrow," he announced with a smile.

The elastic waistband of his pajamas was shoved down with ease. Dib could do nothing but gawk as his enemy-friend of ten years, and mate as of twenty minutes ago, was sinking to his knees and staring with big soft eyes. And wow, he forgot how long his tongue was and _wow_ was he glad to have been reminded. 

Never in a million years did Dib ever think he would be getting head in his kitchen on Christmas morning, by Zim of all people. About a minute after the sudden thrust into existentialism, sweet release was yanked out of his body by force and he was left shaky and babbling when Zim pulled away, lips shiny and curled into a smirk. Dib was pretty sure he had just made a snide comment about the speed that act took to complete but honestly, Dib couldn't care less, and when he grabbed Zim by his collar and pulled him into a kiss, he couldn't care less his own taste was heavy on his tongue.

But when they finally broke, out of breath and panting, the little alien curled in his arms, chest rising and falling, he _did_ care. He cared far too much and that was perfectly fine because he hadn't cared about anything for so long, he was worried he lost the ability to. And the sudden thought struck him, that Zim was all he had ever truly cared about and now that he had him, there was finally a sense of completion to a long overdue chase. It was all just too good to be true.

It was too good to be true...

This was a trick wasn't it? None of this was real, how could he believe something so ridiculous as Zim loving him back? He was a fool. A stupid, stupid fool who opened his heart to the first hand that felt like reaching in.

"You're, leaking," Zim muttered, hand cupping his cheek. 

Oh. He supposed he was. 

"Sorry I'm just... Overwhelmed." Dib swallowed. He didn't deserve this. This _couldn't_ be real. He was Dib Membrane, failed clone of his father. A paranormal investigator with no direction. The savior of Earth who slept with the enemy trying to conquer it. A lonely, pathetic man sleeping on a decade old matress with no sheets because he spilled vodka on them and hadn't done laundry in weeks or washed his hair or had a real meal or--

"Look at me."

Dib opened his eyes and stared into pools of pink. Such a soft color, pink. He should really tell Zim how much it meant to him someday. 

"I won't be having my mate cry on the day of our consummation." 

"You mean it then?" Dib murmured. "You really mean we're mates?" 

Zim sighed. "When do I ever say things I don't mean? Perhaps you really are too stupid to mate with after all..."

"Hey!" Dib whined, but his bruised ego melted away when he saw the smirk on Zim's face. He was right, this was no time to mope around, it was Christmas morning! Or well, maybe not morning from the looks of how bright it was outside, but it was Christmas nonetheless and here he was, tearing up like a little bitch because the person he cared about the most... reciprocated those feelings. What was he _doing_? 

He scooped the little invader up and into his arms like tinsel on a tree branch. 

"Wha- where are you taking me?" 

Dib pushed his bedroom door open with his back. 

"I wanna return the favor," he grinned. 

"But I was the one who was evening the score! You're going to make it uneven again!" They plopped onto the bed, squeaky springs accompanying their fall. 

"Zim, I want to make it so uneven we lose count." Dib pulled him closer and pressed a kiss between his eyes. 

"I suppose, you _did_ want to taste me again last night..."

"Did I?" 

Zim smirked. "You said I tasted sweet." 

His hands were eagerly tugging off Zim's clothes and clawed fingers yanked at the buttons of his flannel pajama shirt.

"Oh yeah, like I'm just going to take your word for it _space boy_." Settled between slender green legs, all was beginning to feel right with the world. 

"See for yourself _filthy_ human."

Dib licked his lips. 

"You bet." 

Maybe, there really was something to be said about Christmas magic after all.


End file.
